


On a World Wide Scale, it's Just Another Winter's Tale

by BisexualRoger (HyperPluviophile)



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bittersweet, Break Up, Christmas Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up, froger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperPluviophile/pseuds/BisexualRoger
Summary: "Freddie takes a deep breath, relishing the rush of fresh December air as he pushes his way through the fire door and out into the frosty stillness of the night. Even without the sweltering heat of so many drunk bodies all pressed together, the pub would still have been altogether too bright, and too noisy for his liking. Especially now.His current mood calls for the quiet solace of the empty street. A place where only the reflective glow of the windows on the icy pavements suggests the presence of other people. Of happier people. Of those who don’t currently feel like utter shit. "Freddie and Roger deal with the aftermath of their breakup. Feelings are hurt, revelations are had, and perhaps there's light at the end of the tunnel after all.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Comments: 17
Kudos: 20





	On a World Wide Scale, it's Just Another Winter's Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nastally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastally/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dawn of Aquarius](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18372263) by [nastally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastally/pseuds/nastally). 



> Happy Christmas Nastally! Remember when I sent an early draft of this to you back in March? Well, I finallyyyy got off my arse and finished it. Only took me nine months 😅 xx This was very heavily inspired by Dawn of Aquarius, and also by the song A Winter's Tale by David Essex, so if readers are unfamiliar with either of those I highly recommend them. 
> 
> Now, Ana. It's been an absolute pleasure beta reading for you, but more than that it's been an honour being your friend. You're intelligent and compassionate and so supportive, and also kind of bonkers (I mean that 100% as a compliment!) And I can only hope to one day be half the writer you are. I really hope you like this 😊 xx

Freddie takes a deep breath, relishing the rush of fresh December air as he pushes his way through the fire door and out into the frosty stillness of the night. Even without the sweltering heat of so many drunk bodies all pressed together, the pub would still have been altogether too bright, and too noisy for his liking. Especially now. 

His current mood calls for the quiet solace of the empty street. A place where only the reflective glow of the windows on the icy pavements suggests the presence of other people. Of happier people. Of those who don’t currently feel like utter shit. 

With that in mind, Freddie’s not quite sure that he shouldn’t just call it a night. It’s late after all, but still early enough that he might be able to make it onto the last bus home, if he’s quick. The thought sends him shuddering. No matter how refreshing the chill is now, he knows that in mere minutes it’ll feel absolutely bitter. 

He sighs wearily. It’s a choice between seeing the party through to its end and spending the night on Tim’s floor, versus trekking halfway across London to find the nearest bus stop. 

Neither appeals hugely. In fact, the more he weighs his options up the more he feels like breaking down into frustrated tears. Coming here was a mistake. He should’ve stayed home, not let Brian push him into attending such a festive event when he feels anything but- 

“Tell you what, it’s bloody freezing out here” 

Freddie turns so fast that his feet nearly slip out from under him. In his haste to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party, he'd somehow missed the one person whose presence (or lack thereof) he should’ve been keeping diligent track of. His pulse picks up frantically, an irrational flush of adrenaline taking over as he gapes at the figure, who has presumably been watching him silently ever since he first spilled out of the door. 

Leant against the windowsill of the pub, page boy cap askew and face glowing ever so slightly in the dim spark of his cigarette, Roger looks borderline ethereal. Half bathed in shadow and looking somehow not all there. Eyes dark and unreadable as he stares back. 

“I didn’t see you there, dear,” says Freddie, wincing almost immediately as the words leave his lips. His every instinct is screaming at him to bolt back inside, possibly so he can bawl his eyes out quietly in the toilets, but his feet remain rooted to the spot. It’s like being caught in the sudden glare of a floodlight. All he can do is stand and stare as his heart hammers in his ears. 

Having not-so-subtly avoided him for the better part of a month, Roger may very well decide now’s the perfect time to unleash all hell upon him. And why not? No one at the party would hear. No one would come to his aid until it was too late. Over the pounding in his ribs he blearily wonders if it’s what he deserves. 

But if Roger’s affected by the casual air with which Freddie addresses him, he doesn’t show it. He just takes another drag of his cigarette, nodding a little. Then he tilts his head away. Gaze dropping to some nondescript patch of ice on the floor. 

Inside his chest, Freddie’s heart drops several feet with it. In many ways it’s far worse than any tirade would’ve been. He’s heard from Brian and Tim that Roger has been… Strange since the breakup. 

No, not strange. Perfectly normal. 

Supposedly he’s been going about his life with a near perfect cheeriness, the facade of which hasn’t cracked even once over the last four weeks, except of course in those rare moments where the pair had crossed paths, during which Roger had made very obvious, hasty exits. 

It’s absolutely desolating. As if Freddie didn’t feel awful enough. 

This cheery denial, the borderline manic way with which he seems to be clinging to normality, it’s made him a stranger. The Roger that Freddie knows is far from one to run away from his problems. On the contrary, it’s the explosive gusto with which he runs headlong at them that tends to be the issue. And where there are matters which can’t be changed, he’s usually the first to take them on the chin. It is what it is, no point feeling bad and all that. 

In the midst of some of his darker, late-night guilt driven ruminations, Freddie can’t help but wonder if perhaps he’s truly broken something inside the younger man. Being cast aside for someone “better” is never easy. It’s not the sort of hurt that can be solved with pints and Cornish proverbs. That sort of healing only comes with time. If it ever comes at all. 

And maybe - as Freddie stands, whole body taught with grief and fear, gazing at Roger’s woefully impassive face - something has broken inside him too. The breakup had been for the best. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t agony. 

If only Roger had given him a moment before storming out. Had he only had the time, he’d have explained that this doesn’t mean they can’t care about one another. That he doesn’t adore Roger with his whole heart and soul, and that he always will. It’s what he _ought _to be doing now, now that the two of them are once more face to face, but his lips refuse to part. His entire throat feels frozen over. Every word he’s dreamed of saying to Roger over the last month firmly clamped down, unutterable.__

__The same apparently can’t be said for Roger. He’s still so adamantly focused on the ground that he’s yet to take another drag of his cigarette. It makes sense - what on earth could Roger possibly have to say to him? “I want nothing more to do with you” would only be redundant at this point._ _

__And out of everything, all the emotional blows Freddie’s had to endure recently, it’s this that stings the most._ _

__As a poetic soul by nature, he’s a big believer in significance. What’s the point in feeling hurt at all if not so you can transform it into something beautiful, meaningful? Endings ought to feel like bookends. Nice little full stops with which you can divide your life into chapters._ _

__But here there’ll be none of that. No poignant last words or epic farewells. Most unbearable of all is the insignificance of it all. They were intimate. Now they’re not. And in the absence of that, the world will continue to spin on its axis, and the people in it will go about their daily lives, not so much apathetic as oblivious to the little pieces of both of them that have died as a result._ _

__It doesn’t seem right. Freddie’s world is ending, and the only thing the universe has to offer is the serene silence of another forgettable December night._ _

__He turns his back, choked by the sudden lump in his throat. If he can make it inside and back to the bar without running into Brian, then there’s still time to drink himself into oblivion. Much good it’ll do to numb the pain in the long term, but it has to be better than this. Anything would be better than standing here, kept company only by the shadow of a figure that wears Roger’s face, but has nothing in common with the lover he used to know. Maybe he should-_ _

__“It’s strange. I don’t remember what I did before… Well, before us I suppose.” Roger’s voice is calm and steady, but somehow muffled, even in the silence of the night air. Turning back around, Freddie knows his surprise must be borderline ugly, and he doesn’t even have it in him to care because after a month of radio silence Roger is finally, _finally _talking to him. Even if he’s not looking at him.___ _

____The relief is enough to near move Freddie to tears._ _ _ _

____“Obviously there’s the band and the stall…” continues Roger, jittering his hand for a moment. Twisting his cigarette in a meaningless gesture. “But I have all these spare hours now. I could get a proper job”_ _ _ _

____“You in a nine to five?” Freddie forces out a chuckle, which comes out more like a strangled, nervous huff, but it’s enough to make Roger turn his head._ _ _ _

____There’s a tense pause. A fraction of a moment where, for the first time since that awful night, the two lock eyes._ _ _ _

____Then, slowly, miraculously, Roger quirks half a smile. “Maybe.”_ _ _ _

____And then he shuffles up, silently inviting Freddie to join him on the windowsill._ _ _ _

____For a second it seems like Freddie’s legs might disobey him. He feels rooted to the spot, kept upright on limbs that are trembling with more than just the cold. His heart is of course still beating at a mile a minute pace, but he hadn’t realised his nerves were quite so bad._ _ _ _

____“Don’t be ridiculous, you’d hate it,” he replies. Forcing his feet to shift he staggers his way over to the windowsill, perching on it as daintily and as respectfully far apart from Roger as he can. And then, just because he can’t quite help himself, he murmurs, “You’d hate it almost as much as you must hate me, I imagine.”_ _ _ _

____Roger frowns, brows furrowing in what might actually be genuine confusion. “I don’t hate you? You had your reasons. I can’t exactly be angry with you for being honest, can I?”  
He’s phrasing it like it’s a question. As if he’s genuinely oblivious as to what at all about his behaviour might’ve possibly given Freddie that impression. Hmm. Perhaps his illusion of normality runs so deep that he’s managed to fool no one except himself. _ _ _ _

____Freddie inhales, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. Where should he even begin? Now he’s got Roger he feels the frantic, pressing need to say something, anything. Afraid that Roger will disappear in a cloud of smoke if he doesn’t._ _ _ _

____“I didn’t say it because I didn’t want it to-” he starts._ _ _ _

____Roger cuts him off abruptly, “It’s alright. You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand”_ _ _ _

____But after waiting so long for this moment, near praying for it at times, Freddie finds he can’t stop. Seized by the sudden desperate need to justify himself, the words keep tumbling out, “And of course there’s my mother, and the band, and-”_ _ _ _

____“I said you didn’t have to explain it.” Roger’s voice pitches high, showing, for the first time, the faintest hint of irritation._ _ _ _

____“Sorry.”_ _ _ _

____Roger sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “Don’t be.” The words are strained. Betraying something beyond disinterest. A hint of desperation perhaps._ _ _ _

____“I am though,” presses Freddie. “Not just about that but about everything.” It’s pathetic how anguished he sounds. Like he’s the one who’s been slighted, who has the right to feel hurt._ _ _ _

____Roger shrugs, “If it hadn’t been this it would’ve been something else. Me and some bird, the band taking off, I don’t know…” He sighs again, deeper this time. Fatigued. “My point is it’s not your fault. So you can stop acting like such a martyr”_ _ _ _

____The last comment, although in theory an insult, carries no hint of malice. Only a sincere weariness that has Freddie’s cheeks burning with shame._ _ _ _

____“You’re taking this remarkably well,” he murmurs, gaze downcast. “I feel it’s far better than I deser-”_ _ _ _

____“Don’t say that!” snaps Roger. Louder, overtly frustrated this time, as opposed to just slightly irate._ _ _ _

____The unexpected short, sharp burst of emotion is simultaneously relieving and disconcerting. An angry Roger is at least somewhat closer to the one Freddie knows, but his unexpected volatility has pushed Freddie back onto uncertain footing. If he’s not careful Roger really might start screaming at him, or worse just walk away without another word. Any dramatic delusions Freddie might’ve had of falling to his knees, pleading for forgiveness, Roger clearly isn’t going to let them play out._ _ _ _

____Whatever Freddie’s going to say next warrants a careful approach. The trouble is, he’s not quite sure what he’s meant to say. What it is Roger wants to hear._ _ _ _

____“Brian’s worried about you,” is what he settles on eventually._ _ _ _

____Roger snorts. “Yeah? Well Brian worries about everything.” He takes another drag of his cigarette, gaze resting on a distant lamp post. It’s not a rebuttal or a defense, and as such is far more revealing than perhaps he’d intended it to be._ _ _ _

____“He says you’ve been distant recently,” pushes Freddie. “Overly happy, but then you go out and you drink and-”_ _ _ _

____“God!” Roger throws his hands up, anger bubbling to the surface again as he shrieks, “I don’t know what he wants from me!” So much for the careful approach. But then Roger pauses, taking a shaky breath, lowering his voice to a mutter. “I’m hurt and it’ll take me time to get over it, but I will. He needs to stop fussing…”_ _ _ _

____He trails off, falling silent._ _ _ _

____For the first time tonight Freddie knows what to do. He doesn’t push him. He stays quiet, waits for Roger to meet his gaze. When the other man finally, inevitably does, it’s with eyes that are shining with unshed tears._ _ _ _

____“God,” Roger gives a barking laugh, “You had to do it near bloody Christmas, didn’t you?” With an unsteady hand he brushes his eyes, wiping away the tears before they can fall. “I had everything already planned out, you know? Wanker. Now I’m going to have to give your present to Bri.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh.” Freddie’s instinct is to reach out. To pull him close and reassure him that it’ll all be alright. Hold him like Roger had held him on far too many occasions. But he knows he can’t. So he settles for a ridiculous, quiet, “Do you think he’ll like it?”_ _ _ _

____Again Roger laughs. “Fucking… I’m joking. Of course you can still have it. Except…” He scratches the back of his head, the tremor in his hands reaching fever pitch levels as he mutters, “Except the ring of course. That’ll have to go back”_ _ _ _

____For a moment Freddie’s sure he must have misheard, or at the very least misunderstood. But as the weight of Roger’s wordsfully sinks in he realises he isn’t shocked or upset, rather he’s overcome with a wave of exasperated affection. For all his pragmatism and flippancy when it comes to love, in many ways Roger’s just as much, if not more, of a hopeless romantic than Freddie is._ _ _ _

____Marriage? If it were anyone else it would be almost laughable. But as it is, it’s only a little bit silly, and overwhelmingly sad._ _ _ _

____“Roger…” Freddie begins, proceeding as carefully as he can, each word deliberately chosen, “You don’t want to marry me. Be tied to me for the rest of your life? You’d hate it and so would I. We’d make each other miserable_ _ _ _

____Roger hums. Flicking his cigarette butt away._ _ _ _

____“We would,” Freddie reiterates firmly, “We would and you know it”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah. I know” Roger nods, sniffling. He’s given up wiping his eyes with his hands, and is now making extensive use of his jacket sleeve. “It was stupid really. But I just thought…”_ _ _ _

____He takes another breath. Gathering himself somewhat. “Look, I don’t want us to turn this into a bloody soap opera. There’s no point. What’s done is done, and I’m not planning on being miserable about it for the rest of my life” There’s a firmness in his words. A solid commitment. He sounds so certain. So mature._ _ _ _

____“But…” Roger’s voice wavers, the concrete surety already crumbling as he swallows hard. “But… It wasn’t just me right? There were… there were other things?”_ _ _ _

____As Roger’s voice cracks Freddie feels his chest once more flood with a warm sincere tenderness. Whatever there may be between them, he knows in this moment that he’s not just spouting empty platitudes when he tells himself he’ll always love Roger._ _ _ _

____“Of course there were.” He says. Equal parts gentle and firm, “You know there were, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”_ _ _ _

____“Alright” Roger nods jerkily._ _ _ _

____With his lower lip pinched between his teeth, and his eyes threatening once more to overflow, he looks so very young. Every bit the twenty year old who’s a long way from home, and more hurt than he can say, and nothing like the aspiring rockstar he is every other hour of the week. All the pain he’s been so obviously trying to keep at bay with his unwavering commitment to normality has finally spilled over. Brutally raking him over the metaphorical coals._ _ _ _

____To say it’s heart wrenching to watch would be an under-statement. Of course, it had to be done, but this time Freddie doesn’t attempt to restrain himself from throwing his arms around Roger._ _ _ _

____“Don’t.” Roger holds a shaking hand up, turning his head away as he wriggles out of Freddie’s grip. “Please,” he whispers. “I just need some time to- to sort myself out a bit.”_ _ _ _

____Drawing his hands back, somewhat wounded, Freddie nods. The rejection stings, but he doesn’t press the issue. Even if it takes all his restraint not to protest when Roger pushes away from the wall to stand in front of him._ _ _ _

____He’s not a small man, at least not relative to Freddie, but in the dim light he appears almost tiny, his svelte frame practically engulfed by his jacket._ _ _ _

____“I should probably go. I’m getting the train to Cornwall tomorrow” murmurs Roger. “Thought it might be nice to see my mum… Haven’t been back in a while so...” He trails off, scuffing his foot awkwardly against the pavement as he stares up at Freddie from beneath his tresses. Even in the dark the flush of embarrassment rising in his cheeks is apparent._ _ _ _

____Freddie nods. “Wish her happy Christmas for me.”_ _ _ _

____“I will. I... I guess I’ll see you around then.” Roger’s hesitating. As if he’s waiting for Freddie’s permission to leave. Despite being the eldest, Freddie had never considered himself to be the dominant personality in their relationship, not by a country mile. Roger was always “The Man”. The firm decision maker, at least in his mind._ _ _ _

____For the first time though, he feels fully aware of the influence he had really held, and apparently continues to, over the younger man._ _ _ _

____It’s a frightening thought. But it carries with it an unmistakable responsibility. If there’s anything he needs to give Roger to help him move on, now is the time to do so._ _ _ _

____“Look after yourself. For Brian’s sake if not for your own,” he says, hoping it’s obvious that he means every single word, more than he can possibly say._ _ _ _

____A sad but sincere smile tugs at the corners of Roger’s mouth. “Yeah. You too.”_ _ _ _

____And then he turns his back._ _ _ _

____Cold as he is, Freddie doesn’t make any attempts to move. Instead he watches. Watches and waits until Roger’s silhouette has finally faded away into the grey haze of the night._ _ _ _

____It’s strange, but unlike their initial breakup, something in this feels final. Film-esque in its simple theatricality. The story is over. “The End”. There’s nothing left to say anymore._ _ _ _

____Although… Freddie’s heart jolts. With everything he’d wanted to say, he’d left out the most important part. He’d forgotten to tell Roger how much he loves him. Then again… reflecting on the encounter, recalling each word and gesture to the best of his ability Freddie realises that perhaps not everything has to be said outright._ _ _ _

____Roger likely already knows._ _ _ _

____The rush of pain and pity and relief that the revelation brings is overwhelming._ _ _ _

____It’s a long time before Freddie is able to step away from the wall, and back into the enveloping glow of the party._ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, or whatever it is you celebrate, and thank you ever so much for reading 🥰 
> 
> OOOh, and massive thanks to quirkysubject for beta reading this! You're a treasure!


End file.
